


You suck at fighting

by rattlemeoldbones



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DCU
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Only teen because there's SMOOCHIN', SuperBat, and mentions of sexual relations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 00:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16545278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rattlemeoldbones/pseuds/rattlemeoldbones
Summary: Bruce says Clark sucks at fighting depowered, so they work on that. Then they kiss. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯





	You suck at fighting

**Author's Note:**

> I saw an OTP scenario on tumblr and, even though I know this has been written to death I wanted to get into the habit of writing again when I'm able anyway and doing short little uncommitted things like this will help that.
> 
> Might do an explicit sex-havin' chapter after this one if it gets enough interest/I can be bothered.

“Oh come on, I’m not  _ that _ bad.” Superman said incredulously as he stared at the back of Batman’s head. There had been a kryptonite scare again, which was why he was currently stood in the bat cave watching Batman write up a (incredibly dryly written) report log rather than out patrolling his own city. The resulting aftermath had made Superman a bit on the woozy side, especially after he had failed to toss the offending baddie over his shoulder and ended up flat on his back from the force of his own momentum instead.

 

That had, of course, lead to their current topic of conversation: how Superman was absolutely terrible at the actual mechanics of fighting.

 

Now usually when addressed with something that he absolutely didn’t agree with Batman would ignore it, not even turn around to acknowledge it, and keep on typing. But this was something he considered serious and Superman clearly didn’t believe him, so it called for drastic measures.

 

The rapid typing on his keyboard ceased so Batman could reach up, pull his cowl down off his head, and then slowly turn in his chair to look at Superman with a pair of incredibly unimpressed steely blue eyes that had bags under them about as dark as the cowl itself.

 

“... Okay, jeeze, now that’s just mean.” Superman said, putting up his hands in defense of himself as though Bruce had just lectured him despite not a word being uttered. The look was enough.

 

Bruce turned back around to start typing again once he knew his point had been made. “I’m teaching you how to fight,” he said blandly and without fanfare. Superman couldn’t help but let out an amused huff.

 

“That doesn’t at all seem fair. How are you going to do--”

 

Bruce didn’t let him finish. “Who do you know, off the top of your head, has one of the largest collections of kryptonite there is?”

 

“Lex.” Superman said instantly.

 

“Me.” Bruce offered instead, not looking over his shoulder to see the uncomfortable look he knew was on Superman’s face. Clark already knew how much he had. They had this talk ages ago back when their partnership was still new. It had turned into a big fight that had since then been long resolved.

 

“Right,” Superman said with a terseness in his voice.

 

“I already have something in mind that should depower you without causing you undo physical distress. That will put us on a more equal footing. Then we can go from there.”

 

The words hung in the air like a thick fog, neither of them breaking the silence until Superman finally breathed out a sigh and closed the distance between them to stand just behind the rotating chair Bruce sat in while he finished up his report of their latest run-in.

 

“... Anyone ever tell you that your writing style is awful?” Superman said with a grin on his face.

 

“Well,” Bruce said back, “I have to let you be better at me at one thing, don’t I?”

 

Superman’s mouth fell open and he playfully smacked Bruce’s shoulder. “Ass.”

 

He could see the smallest upturn in Bruce’s lips.

 

***

 

(The ‘something in mind’ turned out to be a bracelet made from a mixture of kryptonite and other various metals in order to water down just how much the effects got to him. They had needed one or two tries, but eventually Bruce found the perfect ratio of metals and kryptonite to get Clark to a point where he was weak by his own standards while still able to stay on his feet without falling over.

 

That had been weeks ago.)

 

The sound of Clark’s body slamming into the gym mats echoed through the training room for what was probably the 5th time that day.

 

“You’re getting better, but you still need to work on your stance. Remember you’re not a brick wall. You actually need to move. Stop locking your knees.”

 

Bruce’s voice was just as gravley and annoying as ever.

 

“Yeah I heard that the first time.” Clark said through labored breaths, curls stuck to his forehead from sweat. He folded his arms over his stomach.

 

“Then do it. Get up.”

 

Clark frowned and couldn’t stop himself from glaring up at Bruce, sweat just barely starting to dot his pale skin. He was so used to this it was infuriating.

 

After getting to his feet and getting into a stance, they went at it again.

 

Maybe it was because Clark was finally fed up enough with Bruce that he actually listened, or maybe Bruce had relaxed just a little too much around him, but suddenly it wasn’t Clark with his back hitting the ground.

 

“Hah!” Clark grinned, victorious. He straddled the other man, hands pinning his wrists above his head. The slightly startled (pleased) look on Bruce’s face was so,  _ so _ satisfying.

 

“Finally,” he breathed out, staring down into Bruce’s icy blue eyes as they met his, unwavering.

 

… Now this wasn’t the first time they had been in such a position together; far from it. He and Bruce had been intimate plenty of times before. Somewhere after his resurrection and the subsequent fallout between he and Lois, he and Bruce had mended their relationship into something more... Or rather Bruce had developed a massive crush on Superman only for him to find out in a slow, agonizing way that all of the gifts and guilt had morphed into an infatuation that Clark was willing to humor and… well.

 

Here they were now.

 

“Clark.” Bruce said cooly, snapping the other man out of his daze. “Are you going to get off?”

 

Clark blinked, realizing he had been staring at Bruce’s lips this whole time. He couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across his face. “Is that an invitation?”

 

Bruce’s face shifted and he looked off to the side with a small ‘hrn’. He had walked right into that one, he had to admit. But before he could really think about throwing Clark off him there was a heat pressing closer and Clark’s lips were locked around his. He let his eyes slip closed and enjoyed the feeling of their mouths and tongues entwined together.

 

He was used to giving Clark what he wanted. It was rarely, if ever, something  _ he _ hadn’t wanted as well. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make him work for it.

 

As soon as their lips parted Bruce had his legs wrapped around Clark and was flipping him over and onto his back with a thud, swapping their positions entirely. The air was pushed out of Clark’s lungs and he had to blink a few times to realize what had happened. His wrists pushed up against the iron grip Bruce had around them, but with the bracelet he realized he couldn’t move them nearly as easily as usual.

 

“Can’t just make things easy, can you?” He asked with a smirk.

 

“No,” Bruce answered with his own tiny quirk of his lips.

 

He leaned down and locked their lips together again.


End file.
